


Slashes

by Kyhariel



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Gen, Reader-Insert, Self-Harm, gender neutral reader, read at own caution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-15 12:06:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7221697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyhariel/pseuds/Kyhariel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>this is a pretty self-indulgent fic i wrote mainly to vent.<br/>additional comfort scenes with different characters may get added later.</p><p>You were hiding something, but the team had taken notice and confronts you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As I already said, pretty self-indulgent.  
> Also, sorry if this seems ooc or doesn't follow the canon, I haven't played the game yet.  
> There are no graphic descriptions of self-harm, but the scars are described.

You were a relatively new member of the Overwatch team, mainly working defense.  
Which would explain all those cuts and bruises you got.  
At least you hoped so.  
Because not everything in your live was as happy as you told the other members in your team.  
Your past hadn't been very nice to you, causing you to have to find some way to relieve your stress.  
A way that has been very self-destructive.  
Others got reckless.  
Others sought fight after fight, looking to destroy themselves (you suspected that Soldier: 76 was one of those people, but you didn't know for certain).  
You became self-destructive in another way.  
You turned on yourself.  
You sought relief in razor sharp blades and the blood they drew from you.  
Your body was littered in scars, not only those you obtained protecting others but also those you carved all by yourself, lost in your own pain.  
Of course, there was a chance that the others in the team would notice what you were doing and throw you out for being mentally unstable.  
But in the years before you became a part of the (currently illegal) Overwatch, you learned how to hide everything concerning that very well.  
A genuine looking smile made people stop worrying.  
At least it made them worry less.  
You thought that the Overwatch team wasn't any different in that aspect, so you just played the persona you had played for years now.  
Your persona with the phony smiles and the phony happiness.  
You thought nobody would notice, because you weren't the only one playing a part.  
The soldier had a secret as well, that was as plain as day.  
He hadn't learned how to hide that yet.  
Maybe he would. Maybe he wouldn't.  
You, on the other hand, could play well enough to avoid suspicion.  
You thought.

Mercy got suspicious after you refused to get out of your armor to get healed the third time.  
You were hurt and her nanotechnology couldn't fix everything without you taking your armor off.  
But you just flashed her one of your smiles, told her to stop worrying and to look after the others.  
After that you walked away, taking every chance Mercy had to force you out of your armor for healing.  
And that having happened for the third time in a row, it now left her suspicious of something, but she couldn't put in words what she suspected.

She shared her feeling of unease about you with 76, who also had begun to be suspicious, if not already be outright worried about you.  
But he couldn't be certain in his worry, because what if you belonged to talon and that was what you were hiding?  
But for Mercy it was already enough that Soldier's hyper-vigilance had confirmed her suspicions.

Those suspicions made their rounds after that.  
Some members hadn't noticed anything off about you, they said.  
Others had noticed weird little things about you and quirks you had.

So the team came to a conclusion.  
They would face you with those things they noticed and demand an explanation from you, no matter what the consequences might be for the team or you.

Unaware of what might be going on, you were holed up in your room, thinking about whether you should take your _brushes_ out and maybe paint another _picture_.  
That decision was taken off of your shoulders because someone knocked at your door.  
You scrambled to get up and open it as fast as possible, you didn't want to keep anybody waiting after all.  
Tracer was waiting on the other side of the door, bouncing up and down on the heels of her feet.  
Which wasn't unusual on its own, her being always in motion, but her expression caused a feeling of dread to settle deep in your stomach.  
She looked worried, pained almost, but also kind of scared, her eyes wide open.  
"Hey, um, (y/n), could you please come with me?", she asked, her voice quiet and hushed.  
The dread in your stomach made itself comfortable, not seeming to leave anytime soon.  
Flashing her a bright smile, you nodded and stepped out of her room to follow her to wherever she wanted to take you.  
It turned out that she took you to the common room where some other members of the team where already waiting.  
Panic began to surround the dread in your stomach, signalling the approach of an anxiety attack.  
You'd have to stall it until this little meeting or whatever was over and you could take care of it with more effective methods.  
It wouldn't be the first time you'd have to stall an attack, so you were sure you could pull it off again.  
Still, you'd have to show some emotion that wasn't pure panic at this impromptu meeting, so you let surprise wash over your face with maybe the slightest hint of concern.  
You looked around, noting that Mercy was sitting in the middle of the room, not looking at you.  
You couldn't survey the room any more, because the Soldier raised his voice:  
"(y/n), we wanted to talk to about something, because...", he got cut off by Mercy, who stood up as she continued:  
"We noticed some strange things you were doing...", Mercy then was cut off by Tracer, who was still bouncing, but had also started fiddling with her hands.  
"I can't take all this stalling!", she exclaimed, before asking: "(y/n), are you a Talon agent?"  
That was why this meeting had been called?  
They thought you were a Talon agent?  
A Talon agent?  
What?  
You couldn't help but laugh, a terrible, nervous laugh, but a laugh none the less.  
That accusation was incredibly ridiculous, yet it didn't dissolve the feeling of dread you had.  
They really believed you were a Talon agent.  
You concluded your burst of nervous laughter with a shake of your head.  
Soldier spoke again: "Prove it."  
A challenge. A challenge to prove that you weren't with Talon and that you were worth the trust the team had placed in you.  
How the hell were you supposed to prove that you weren't with Talon?  
Well, you could maybe bullshit whatever made them suspicious away, but would that be enough?  
Maybe you could ask them what had made them suspicious? But wouldn't that make them even more suspicious?  
You could feel the heavy weight of all their stares resting on you, waiting for an answer.  
Some of them looked like they already condemned you, Reinhardt for example, others looked more conflicted than anything, desperately hoping for you not to be on the enemy's side, yet they couldn't explain your weird behavior away.  
Nervousness flooded your veins, rising with every second you were unable to give them an explanation.  
Your throat felt like it was closing up, you knew that if you tried to talk now you wouldn't be able to get a single word out.  
A different idea came to you.  
You would still have to leave the team for whatever mental instability you had, but it was better than being hunted down as a suspected Talon agent.  
And it would require no words to explain, as the scars on your body would talk for themselves.  
You glanced one more time around the room, looking (as best as you could) everyone in the eyes before you lifted your hands to the jacket you were always wearing while you weren't in your armor and slowly pulling it off.  
You were wearing a t-shirt underneath it.  
Sure, it was a risk if your jacket got damaged or anything, but it was a risk you were willing to take in the face of the hot summer on Gibraltar.  
You let your jacket drop to the floor and proceeded to pull your shirt over your head as well, showing the straight, neatly parallel scars on your stomach as well.  
Your arms were a mess.  
Small, thin scars were broken by big, ugly welts of scarred tissue.  
The places on your stomach and arms that weren't marred by scars had little burns in some places, adding to the horrifying picture you made.  
The team exchanged glances, nobody wanting to speak first.  
You, however couldn't see that, firmly staring on the ground, t-shirt still clenched in your hand.  
Tracer raised her hand, as if she wanted to touch you and make sure she wasn't hallucinating, but she thought better of it and lowered it again.  
Mercy, being a doctor, of course immediately recognized how the scars on your body had come to be.  
She looked a bit horrified.  
But, again, you couldn't see that.  
After several pained moments of silence, you put your shirt back on and also picked your jacket up, although not putting it on.  
During all of that, you kept your gaze on the ground, not wanting to see the reactions of the Overwatch team.  
You made your way out of the room.  
Nobody stopped you.  
You made your way to your own room, gently closing your door behind you.  
Once in your room, you put your jacket back on, curled up into a ball on your bed and started to cry.


	2. Mercy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if...  
> ....Mercy followed you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe I'll add Soldier: 76 next.  
> idk.

A knock.  
You didn't want to move.  
Another knock.  
Someone was knocking at your door.  
A third knock.  
Third times the charm, eh?  
"I will not open the door until you allow me to. Unless I have reason to believe."  
A pause.  
Mercy was on the other side of the door.  
You still couldn't bring yourself to move.  
She sounded hurt.  
Of course.  
All you ever did was hurting people.  
You should have become an offensive hero. Heh.  
"Are you hurting yourself?"  
No. You were just crying your eyes out.  
Were you even still crying?  
You couldn't tell.  
Everything was numb.  
Moments passed in silence.  
If they even were moments.  
Everything was blending together.  
"I'm coming in now."  
Mercy was opening the door carefully, not making a sound.  
(Sometimes your door made weird noises. Did mercy know that?)  
But in contrast to that, she seemingly made sure that her steps made sound.  
Maybe she didn't want to startle you.  
You were facing the only window your room had.  
Mercy knelt in front of you, blocking the view of the window.  
"Hey, (y/n), can you talk?", she asked, voice soft as if she were talking to a wounded animal.  
You felt tears walling up again.  
Huh.  
So you had stopped crying before Mercy entered your room.  
But you were so useless.  
You couldn't even talk and now you were crying about it like a little kid!  
You were so, so damn useless-  
"Hey, hey, its okay.", Mercy interrupted your thoughts.  
She just sat there like that for a while.  
No questions, just saying soothing nonsense while you were crying.  
After a while, it did calm you down enough to stop crying.  
She didn't immediately asked you something again, the two of you just being there in silence.  
Eventually, you relaxed enough to uncurl, your muscles being stiff from forcefully holding the same position for so long.  
You say up straight on your bed, Mercy joining you after a while.  
She started talking: "You know, you could've come to us, any of us to talk. We're here to help, even members of our own team."  
Her words, for some stupid, stupid reason, hurt as if a knife was stuck in your heart.  
Your eyes had started burning again.  
Mercy still referred to you as a part of the team.  
But she wasn't finished yet:"While I am disappointed in you for taking such an unnecessary risk in hurting yourself..."  
Of course, of course, of fucking course she was disappointed in you, you could do nothing but disappoint people!  
"... I can also understand why you would try to hide it. And I ask of you, if you think of hurting yourself again, that you come to speak to one of us, anyone of us instead, yes?"  
She was looking at you, you could feel it.  
You couldn't really see it, for you couldn't even see the ground at your feet anymore, your eyes had gone all teary wet again.  
Why did she care so much?  
Why had she offered that?  
Nobody had ever cared enough about you to be wanting to talk to you.  
Or so it has seemed.  
You managed a weak nod, hoping that maybe, maybe Mercy was now satisfied and she would leave and you were alone again, could pretend no one cared about you and you couldn't disappoint anyone, that had been so much easier than knowing you had disappointed someone that cared about you.  
Mercy didn't leave.  
Your sense of time still hadn't returned to you, so you still couldn't tell how much time passed, but at one point you were being hugged by Mercy.  
And despite everything inside you screeching for her to stop, because you were so disgusting and didn't deserve any contact with other humans, the hug felt so good, so warm and so comforting.  
For just a moment, you felt like everything could be okay.  
Sometime later, maybe while Mercy was still hugging you, you fell asleep, exhausted from the emotional turmoil the day had caused.  
Maybe everything was really going to be okay.


	3. Soldier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if...  
> ...Soldier: 76 followed you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with more Soldier!  
> He was harder to write than I imagined...

A knock.  
Another knock.  
No space to think.  
Third knock.  
Fourth knock.  
You couldn't move.  
Fifth knock.  
Knocks were getting stronger.  
"I will come in now.", a voice said on the other side of the door.  
Not like you could stop them.  
You involuntarily flinched as you saw Soldier: 76's boots step into your view.  
You tensed up even further, even though You already felt like you could never move again.  
He dropped to his knees, now at eye level with you.  
"(y/n), look at me.", he said.  
But you were looking at him, weren't you?  
Actually, no. You still were a bit zoned out and thus looking more through him.  
Couldn't they have send someone nicer to tell you that you should leave and never come back? Tracer, perhaps?  
Wait, no, Tracer would probably be as upset about this as you were.  
She liked you.  
Or Mercy. Mercy would've been nice.  
Anyone but Soldier (and maybe Junkrat and Roadhog, but anyways).  
He reminded you too much of-  
No, don't go there.  
No need to make this worse.  
A snap in front of your face tore you out of you thoughts, forcing you to focus on the person in front of you.  
"You listening?", he asked.  
What was it with people always asking questions?  
But yes, you were listening, although you weren't sure if you could even manage a nod.  
"Please nod at least.", he said after a moment of silence.  
Great.  
You were so useless. You couldn't even manage a nod.  
So fucking useless.  
Soldier sighed.  
You felt like you were suffocating, your throat closing up, tears welling up and you couldn't breath, there was no air, you were going to die-  
A cough saved you from certain death.  
But now you were coughing your lungs out, with no hope of ever stopping.  
You were coughing and coughing and coughing and you just couldn't stop.  
It felt awful, so awful, but, eventually, you could stop.  
Soldier was still kneeling on front of you.  
Why did he have to wear that damn mask.  
Not a single emotion could be read from that mask and it's gleaming red visor.  
It looked so _angry_.  
What if you had angered him?  
You could never tell when he was angry.  
He had every right to be angry.  
You had needlessly endangered the team by hurting yourself intentionally and for some reason, he had taken the unofficial lead of the team.  
Of course, Winston was still coordinating the team efforts, but Soldier always took the lead in the field, if he was present.  
You were so, so fucked.  
He spoke up again: "(y/n), I'm not going to ask again, but I want you to listen to me, okay?"   
A short silence and burst of panic on your part later, Soldier nodded to himself and continued on, as if he never asked a question.  
Well, he did ask a question, but it was a _rhetorical_ one.  
Rhetorical questions were good.   
You didn't need to answer rhetorical questions.  
Soldier sighed.  
"So, (y/n), while I would like to know why you feel the need to harm yourself, I will not ask right now."  
He didn't pause long before continuing:  
"I need you to understand that what you are doing is reckless and endangers anyone that has to rely on you to be able to defend them."  
Shit.  
You tensed up again, your stomach feeling like someone had buried several very sharp knives in it and had now slowly began turning them while they were still inside.  
It hurt so much.  
You felt like throwing up.  
In fact, throwing up seemed like a really good idea right now.  
Despite your muscles being stiff, being in the same position for so long, you managed to get up and make your way to the bathroom that was adjacent to your room.  
Soldier didn't follow you at first, he just looked at you while you disappeared into the bath.  
However, once he started to hear vomiting sounds, he got up to look after you.  
You were vomiting up what was mainly water and stomach acid.  
A hand began to rub soothing circles on your back, while you were still puking everything that was in your stomach.  
Which was nothing at all, really.  
After you had emptied your stomach, you became aware of the tears streaming down your face.  
Soldier was sitting next to you, his hand still on your back.  
You shrugged his hand off and sat with your back pressed against the wall, so you would not slouch over.  
Soldier, again, followed and sat next to you against the wall.  
"Well, (y/n), I think that was the wrong approach.", he said.  
You nodded, still unable to form words, your throat raw.  
"You should drink something."  
You nodded again, but didn't get up. Everything hurt.  
Soldier didn't force you to get up.  
The two of you sat together for some time like that.  
At one point, you let your head fall to the side, onto Soldier's shoulder.  
You were so tired.  
Your tears had dried.  
"You should clean up.", he suggested, nudging you to get up.  
You shook your head. You still couldn't bring yourself to move.  
"Come on, (y/n)."  
You closed your eyes.  
You were so, so tired.

The next thing you remembered was waking up in your bed, a blanket covering you.  
There was a glass of water and a note on your bedside table.  
The note read:

Brush your teeth.  
Drink the water.  
We'll talk tomorrow.  
-76

Maybe this wasn't the end after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, if you (yes, you reading this) want to suggest a character I should write next, go ahead!


	4. Tracer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if...  
> ...Tracer followed you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here's our favourite time traveler!
> 
> (This chapter is shorter than the others, sorry)

No knocks.  
Someone barged into your room.  
You tensed up, ready for anything.  
Tracer's pants came into your field of view.  
But only for a short moment, as she immediately dropped down on the floor and latched onto you, her arms pulling you into a bone-crushing hug.  
Admittedly, you were confused.  
Why would someone want to hug you?  
You were disgusting, repulsive.  
You were covered in wounds.  
Wounds you had inflicted upon yourself.  
And you had put people in danger - people like Lena.  
Somehow, Lena managed to actually pull you off the bed, her arms still around you.  
She buried her face in your neck, but started to talk none the less:  
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I should have noticed, oh god, so, so, so sorry..."  
She continued on like this, but your brain had temporarily stopped working.  
You were a bit overwhelmed.  
You stared off into space.  
You slowly blinked.  
Once.  
Twice.  
Three times.  
What.  
Had Lena said _she was sorry?_  
Why would she do that?  
Why would she be sorry for something you did to yourself?  
And why was she still hugging you?  
Your arms were hanging limp by your sides.  
Should you hug her back?  
You noticed something wet on your neck.  
Was Lena crying?  
Why?  
You decided that hugging her back was probably the best course of action.  
If she was upset she'd need comforting, no?  
You slowly raised your arms as much as you could, well your lower arms, because your upper arms were held in place by Lena's arms.  
You hugged her back.  
Your brain resumed working.  
"...could've come to me any time to talk, you know? I'm here for you, (y/n)! And please, please know that I like you so much and you are so important to me..."  
This situation was a bit much to handle.  
Your brain broke a second time.  
You were important to her?  
She liked you?  
 _What?_  
What was going on?  
You couldn't handle this.  
You definitely couldn't handle this.  
You cried too.  
The two of you sat together like that for some time.  
Hugging the living hell out of each other.  
Then, Lena slowly let go of you.  
You, in turn, let go of Lena, albeit reluctantly.  
You did not want to force her to keep hugging you, but it also had been so nice, being hugged.  
Lena smiled at you, one of her huge, infectious smiles.  
Despite being in a very bad mental place literally minutes earlier, you couldn't help but smile back.  
"Look at us. We're a mess.", Lena said, still smiling.  
It was true. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying and you couldn't imagine that you looked any different.  
So you just nodded at Lena's statement.  
She laughed.  
After that, she got up and held her hand for you to take.  
You took her hand and let yourself be pulled up.  
You still felt a little shaky on your legs, but you could stand.  
"Okay. Um. What now?"  
Lena was lost in thought.  
You looked at her.  
"Ice cream?", Lena suggested, grinning brightly.  
You were hesitant.   
Getting ice cream would mean going out of your room.  
And that meant seeing the rest of the team and whatever their reactions were.  
Lena seemed not to care about that, she had already taken your hand and pulled you out of the room.  
You really didn't want to see the others, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop Lena.  
So you were tugged out of the room and followed Lena, who was still holding your hand.  
You looked down on the ground the whole way to the kitchen, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone.  
Thankfully, nobody was in the kitchen.  
Still, you leaned against the counter and tried to fight the reflex to just run away and never look back.  
It was then that a spoon was held up in your face.  
You were taken aback at first, not realising what was being held in front of your face.  
But then you took the offered spoon.  
Lena triumphantly held up a tub of ice cream, grinning at it.  
She sat on the counter, next to you.  
She pulled the lid off the container, revealing chocolate ice cream.  
You were offered the ice cream first and took a spoonful out of it.  
Lena and you ate the whole tub of ice cream, talking about small things, like the weather and what shenanigans your teammates were up to.  
And in that moment, everything was okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not like the end.  
> But I don't know how to make it better.  
> Maybe I'll rewrite it
> 
> So, Tracer got two votes, same as Hanzo, but she was requested first, if I remember correctly.
> 
> Hanzo would be next, if my muse hadn't suddenly left me alone.  
> So, I don't really know who will be next.


End file.
